Oracle
by Florian Knox
Summary: They were doomed to a future of total destruction. Not by any Dark Lord- they already had that covered. Nor by any single act of malice- for what one act could be so cataclysmic? No, the cause was far more insidious than that- little injustices piling up to blot out the sun. It was systematic. The Oracle would show the world a brighter future with a most dreadful weapon: compassion


Oracle

Chapter 1 - The Last Man on Earth

* * *

It was the year 2343. Late January sometime. Three hundred and thirty-three years to the day since the war between the Children of the Thaum and the Coalition of Western European Magocracies escalated to a global scale. Two hundred and ninety-seven years, three months since the war's catastrophic end. One hundred and sixty-six years, or thereabouts, since he had met another survivor. As far as he could tell, he was the only one left now. The Miasma had seen to that- most succumbing within weeks of the initial event. It sat, a heavy, purple haze, over more than 70% of the world's surface. It had been closer to 90% for the first few decades after the cataclysm- or so he had been told. He hadn't been able to check since then.

The muggle population didn't even stand a chance; the Miasma utterly ruined anything electronic it came into contact with. Those living within the cities starved, those in the outskirts became fodder for the colonies of magical beasts that thrived in the post-war conditions. Even those that managed to survive, either through force of arms or a stroke of geographical fortune, fell prey to the Miasma eventually. Without the spark of magic within to protect them, it warped them just as easily as it did the rest of the world.

The Wizarding World had not fared much better- already a dwindling breed, the end of the war proved more devastating to the population than the decades of fighting that preceded it. Any attempt at governance was abandoned- those that could retreat to their fortified ancestral homes did so. Everyone else eked out whatever living they could in the ruins of the city centres. He had visited hundreds of such settlements over the years, but each had been plagued with its own problems until one by one, they died out. The last such town he had seen had been little more than a score of people. That had been over a century ago.

The first rays of sunlight peeking over the horizon snapped Harry back to the present. He could reminisce later- now was the time to make haste. Glass clinked as he adjusted the sack slung over his shoulder, the forest blurring around him as he ran. Creatures that had once been birds hissed at his passage, snapping at him with their knife-like beaks. They were ignored- all that mattered was making it back to the lab before daybreak.

* * *

A chorus of insects chirped happily at him as he pushed through the curtain of ivy that marked the entrance to his cave. Mottled green carapaces lit up from within as he passed, filling the cavern with a dim glow that made his heart ache, though he wasn't sure why. They were much larger than the bugs he had been used to before the war- almost the size of a dinner plate. He rapped his knuckles against one of the chitinous shells in greeting; it made a sound like a gong inside a church bell. A forest of multifaceted eyes watched him with fondness as he passed- they were the only creatures in this new world that had been relatively peaceful. As for everything else: whatever the miasma didn't kill, it corrupted.

"I'm back," he addressed the beetles as he passed, pausing before a crudely fashioned table. It was a hobby he'd picked up to pass the days following the end of the world, but he'd never gotten very good at it. The table wobbled as he dumped the sack on it, eliciting another round of tinkles. He had travelled far and risked much- but the contents of that sack would make it all worth it.

Pausing to snatch a small rodent from a cage suspended from the ceiling, he strode deeper into the heart of the mountain. It gave a tiny shriek, spitting a cloud of pollen at him as it squirmed in his grip. Holding a breath he had no need to take, Harry ignored the powder and snapped the struggling rat's neck, paralysing it. With a practised motion, he brushed aside a mane of petals and sunk his fangs into the prominent carotid artery- the creature's own heart conspiring against it as he drained it dry.

He sighed contentedly, savouring the syrupy-sweet flavour of the ratflower. As he finished his meal, Harry plucked a few seeds from its bramble-tipped tail and tossed the carcass into a bucket marked 'compost'. He planned to be finished with his work before the next crop was due to be planted, but he hadn't survived this long by wasting resources.

* * *

Eventually, the natural tunnels widened to reveal an antechamber that looked decidedly man-made. It was impossible to see, even with his enhanced vision, but the far wall of the chamber would open up to reveal the most ambitious magical construct that had ever been dreamed of. It was not hidden for any fear of it being found- as the last person on the planet, Harry had no need for secrecy. No, the reason the door was impossible to find was that for the ritual it was connected to, it had to create a perfect hermetic seal. It opened at the command of its architect and he passed through, gazing up at the work that had occupied him for the last century.

Before him, where once had been solid stone was now a vast cavern exactly one hundred and eight meters across- a perfect spherical chamber carved out of the mountain to make room for a three-dimensional star-chart. A galaxy of jewels floated all around, twinkling with an internal light. He strode purposefully towards the centre of the room. There it was- lying at the bottom of the chamber was an electrum globe. His eyes passed over the etchings and engravings covering its surface, pausing over a grainy, wooden planchette that clung to the globe. On its centre, a targeting reticule displayed the exact latitude and longitude of the area beneath it, in addition to a variety of other information. Not just a map- a spatial targeting system.

He swelled with pride at the sight of it. Of all the preparations he had made, this had been the most intensive. The combined hoards of three dragons still hadn't been enough to make up the weight of the capsule. To scrounge up enough gold and silver for the alloy, he had resorted to excavating an old goblin mine. He winced and placed a hand to an old wound at his side. That had been a setback

"Not the time, Harry," he muttered, circling the capsule until he came to the entrance. As he passed through, he swung the heavy vault-like door closed behind him. As it closed, a wheel that would not have looked out of place on a submarine spun wildly, locking the door in place and again, ensuring a perfect hermetic seal.

Giddy with excitement, he consulted the astronomy charts and complex arithmantic proofs that decorated the table at the helm of the sphere. Reaching across to the console, he absent-mindedly flicked the ignition switch. Lights flickered to life inside the globe, as it gradually rose up to float in the centre of the chamber. A sequence of red lights flicked to green as the globe completed its ascent, rotating lazily amidst the stars in orbit around it. Referencing his notes, Harry carefully tweaked an emerald embedded in the dashboard. Based on his ministrations, a large cluster of emeralds floating outside in the globe adjusted its position ever so slightly. Good- Jupiter was in position.

For hours Harry calibrated the star map, the Diachron, to reflect midnight, tomorrow. The most important thing would be getting the departure coordinates right- the destination coordinates had been programmed long ago. Cracking his knuckles, Harry powered the device down and waited for the globe to return to its starting position at the bottom of the sphere. As he strained to open the hatch, he glanced over his shoulder at the Diachron's most vital component. A fuel tank, of sorts, sat three-quarters full on a podium in the middle of the room. With the haul he had recovered from his latest raid, he knew he would have enough fuel to complete the trip.

* * *

Domebugs skittered across the floor, occasionally knocking into the wobbly furniture that decorated the cave. The contents of the sack littered the ground where it fell- a pile of golden rings suspended from chains, each containing a single, small hourglass.


End file.
